


the one that you loathe

by ohmcgee



Series: some kind of murder [1]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Dick Grayson, Canon-Typical Violence, Deepthroating, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: Grayson's having some kind of crisis. It's adorable really.





	the one that you loathe

Slade doesn’t believe it at first. The truth is, Grayson, for all his moral fiber and righteousness, can be just as manipulative as the so called bad guys he fights. So no, when the kid looks him in the eye and tells him he’s gone rogue, that he doesn’t work for the Bat anymore, Slade just laughs at him. 

It’s adorable, really. He’s having some kind of crisis, dealing with grief, had a fight with Daddy, whatever. Even if Grayson believes what he’s saying is true, Slade knows it’s not. Dick Grayson is a good kid, for better for worse. He always will be. 

 

***

 

A few weeks later Slade decides to take Grayson up on the offer he originally approached him with, curiosity outweighing the fact that he still doesn't believe a word of what Grayson’s preaching. Slade watches him through the scope on his rifle, crouched atop a building across the street. Grayson’s wearing a cheap suit, there’s a five o’clock shadow taking over half his face, and he looks either dead tired or on some kind of drugs, which Slade seriously doubts. Even if the kid had gone "bad," he’d still be smart about it. Which, by the way, Slade still wasn’t buying. 

Still, he’s impressed. Grayson’s posture is relaxed, his body language telegraphing to everyone in the room that he’s completely at ease in his environment. He says something and the mooks around him all throw their heads back and laugh, a couple of them clutching their chests and shaking with it. 

“He ain’t that funny,” Slade mutters under his breath. Then the big guy at the head of the table gets up and claps Dick on the shoulder. Slade takes a deep breath as the man pulls Dick into a close embrace, whispering something in his ear. 

As soon as he steps back, Slade pulls the trigger. 

 

***

 

“You couldn’t,” Dick says after letting himself into Slade’s hotel room, “have maybe waited until he was at least an arms length away?” 

The kid had attempted to scrub the blood off his face as to not attract attention to himself, but Slade can still see the faded blood stains on his cheek and the side of his neck. It's a good look for him. 

“That was disgusting.” 

Slade leans in the bathroom doorway, nearly empty glass of scotch in his hand, and cocks his head to the side, watching as Grayson drops a duffle bag next to one of the beds and strips out of his shirt. 

“Kid,” he says. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I burned the jacket, but my shirt got blood on it too,” he says, showing Slade the dots of red along the collar. “I need to borrow some clothes. I’m sure you have a shirt that --”

“Dick,” Slade says, taking a step toward him. “What. Are. You. Doing.”

“I just told you.”

“What’s the long game here?” Slade asks, pressing his index finger under Dick’s chin and tilting it upward. “What are you playing at? Whatever it is, I can assure you it’s not going to end well for you.”

Dick’s eyes narrow, then he laughs. It’s a bitter, broken sort of sound that shouldn’t come out of a mouth as pretty as his. “You still think I’m a good guy,” he says, his grin turning sharp. 

“I know you are,” Slade says, sliding his fingers up Dick’s jaw to cup the side of his face in his hand. “I know you, Grayson.” 

“You knew me,” Dick says, eyes going wide when Slade lets his thumb slide down under the curve of Dick’s jaw, pressing firmly at his pulse point. When he licks his lips, Slade brings the glass of scotch to his mouth and finishes it off. 

Some kind of wordless conversation passes between them in the span of a heartbeat, then Dick’s dropping to his knees and dragging Slade’s pants down with him. Slade doesn’t ask him what he’s doing, if he really wants this. He just buries one hand in Dick’s hair and pushes his cock into the tight, wet heat of his mouth, breathing in sharply when he looks down and sees the kid’s mouth stretched around him. God, it’s a sight to behold. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of this because oh, he definitely had. Reality surpasses every one of his fantasies, though. 

“Jesus, look at you,” he rumbles out, carding his fingers through Dick’s hair, holding it away from his face so he can see those dark eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks. When Dick’s eyelids flutter and he looks up at Slade with those bright blue eyes, Slade’s hand clenches in his hair, pulling it at the root, and he can feel the small moan that it draws out of Dick as it vibrates around his cock. 

“You like pain,” he chuckles darkly. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.” 

An annoyed look flashes behind Dick’s eyes and then he’s pulling off of him abruptly, looking up at Slade with a shiny bottom lip. 

“Don't talk,” he says firmly. “Just --- just use me.” 

Arousal flares in Slade’s belly like adding gasoline to a fire and he buries both hands in Dick’s hair, bringing that gorgeous mouth back down on his cock. He wants to be used? Slade can definitely give him that. He buries his cock all the way down Dick’s throat until he feels the resistance there and hears him start to gag around him. Dick’s short nails dig into the skin on his thighs, but he’s not fighting it. He just looks up at Slade with wetness in his eyes and practically begs for it.  
  
Slade fucks Dick’s mouth like that’s the only thing it was made for, like its just a hole to be filled. His thumbs press into Dick’s cheeks as he gets closer to the edge, his grip on his face tight as he watches his cock slip in and out of Dick’s plush, red lips. Slade fucks Dick's face the way he’d imagined countless times before, bringing Dick’s nose flush against his pelvis with every thrust, watching tears leak out of his eyes each time he gags around him. When he comes its with a rough, ragged grunt, palming the back of Dick’s head and holding him there as he pumps come into his mouth, cock giving a little twitch when he sees Dick’s throat flex and feels him swallow around him. 

When he's finished, Dick drags the back of his hand over his mouth and tucks Slade back into his pants before standing up. 

“So,” he says. “Do you have a shirt or not?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hey. I'm on [Twitter. ](https://twitter.com/ohmcgee)


End file.
